


In Her Shadow

by dracoena



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drama, This is going to turn into a ghost story., Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2002-11-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoena/pseuds/dracoena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could be considered a ghost story, or just a story of haunting. Maybe it´s slash, or maybe it isn´t.  Indis, queen of the Noldor, is haunted by images of her past..or of her own guilty conscience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Duality.

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien´s.

Warning: This is going to turn into a ghost story.

A whole box of chocolates for the beta reader, the most renowned and distinguished Lady Masterblott from the Land of Neverending Rain. Thanks for grammar revision and other comments.

_Pháinetai moi kénos ísos theóisin_

_Émmen ónper, óttis enantíos tói_

_Isdanéi kai plásion adiphánei-_

_sas hipakoúei_

_kaí geláisas iméroen, to´m´é mán_

_kardían én stéthesin eptoáisen_

_ós gár és s´ído brokhe, ós me phónai_

_sóúd´én ét´éikei*_

_(....)_

_(Sappho)_

Chapter One: Duality

_The light, quenched..._

Indis was nervous. The pangs in her stomach were becoming so persistent that she had to close her eyes to stop the call of the marble floor, which at each moment seemed closer to her gaze and farther from her own feet. She was feeling small and lonely, standing like that inside the great Noldorin stone building, yet the monstrosity of a half-suppressed something torturing her fëa still made her uncomfortable and afraid of herself, filling her belly with nausea.

_The light, quenched.._

"The Queen is waiting for you, Lady Indis."

The Vanya opened her eyes, and nodded politely with a smile before following the Noldo in front of her. It was not happening anywhere, she thought with momentary relief. All those things were only inside her head, and just like they did not show through the dense mask of her lovely calm face, they would never become real. It was like a nightmare, and long ago her brother had told her she did not have to be afraid of nightmares, since they were no more than deceiving visions that Elves born in Middle- Earth sometimes received as a reminder of the Shadow that had once tried to confuse them there.

_The light, quenched.._

But what, she wondered again rather desperately, what if the nightmare was not a distant remembrance of Middle- Earth at all? What if it happened in the Blessed Realm, inside her, and, at the same time, in front of her, too? If it was there?

"Greetings, Lady Indis", Queen Míriel said, approaching her from the window where she had been sitting while doing her needlework. The room was lighted with many lamps, and the great tapestries that hung from the walls gave it a feeling of homeliness, and yet of magnificence that she had not felt in any other palace of the Noldor before. It was Miriel herself who had woven those tapestries, some here and some in Middle Earth, she remembered.

Now, at the sudden sight of the Broideress’s delicate beauty, no little increased by the finery of her robes, the Vanya could not suppress a choke, and for a while she stayed motionless, helplessly gaping at her.

"Greetings, Queen Míriel", she managed to say at last, and Finwë´s wife nodded. Both came closer to bow slightly in respect, she for the Queen of the Noldor, and the nís in front of her for the High King´s sister, and kissed, drawing back to smilingly stare at each other in silence.

_The light, quenched.._

Indis breathed hard, and tried again to smother the strange feeling of nausea as she remembered the way in which she had always felt enthralled by that smile. That peculiar and mysterious slight curve in Míriel´s lips was what had seduced Finwë ,until he had lived for no one else than for her, so how could she? Yet she had been, since the first time she ever set eyes on her, as well as by the sparkle in the grey eyes that now glowed with a happiness softened by compassion, and she could do nothing to help it.

_The light, quenched. That smile, gone. Her rival taken by Middle- Earth´s deep shadows, trapped in darkness, disappearing forever in a place where Finwë would never be able to follow her._

The Vanya suppressed a sob, and, in a moment, the Noldorin queen was at her side, embracing her with loving concern.

"Indis", she whispered. "I am so sorry..."

"I did not come to congratulate you earlier because... because..."

"I know", a sweet voice comforted her; soft black hair tickling her neck and warm flesh pressed against cold limbs. Without knowing why, Indis was able to feel grateful to her for a moment simply for being there, as a friend who could wipe her tears away, and not as the nís who had doomed her to stay unfulfilled since the moment she and the nér she loved had been pledged for eternity.

The nís that she saw dead and gone in the nightmare of her desire.

"How can I..." Indis tried to articulate. "How can my mind be so black and twisted... I should be happy for you!"

Slowly, Míriel drew back, following her with an intent gaze while her hands stroked the Vanya´s golden hair in soothing movements. She knew, yes. She had always known that the little sister of King Ingwë loved her betrothed with a child´s determination, and that she cried silently each time she saw them together, but her hopes that poor Indis would some day find her true love had so far remained unsatisfied.

She felt pity for her. Pity, and that was what tortured Indis the most.

_The light, quenched. The smile, gone. I have seen her dead, and I rejoiced, but she does not rejoice when she sees me dying._

Indis drew back as well and tried to compose herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. It was all so..unfair. She was not a monster, was she? She loved Míriel, and the older nís had always been so good to her!

More than she probably deserved.

"Míriel" she said, and her cheeks flushed deeply. For a moment, her gaze rested upon the tapestries, the lamplight, the warm fire, and then her host´s face. "Forgive me, but I will not visit you again. The mere sight of you stirs feelings inside me I would like to smother as soon as I could... feelings that make me feel ashamed as well as frightened, but, please, know that I love you and that you will always be my friend."

To her surprise, Finwë´s wife blushed too, until the colour of her cheeks matched hers in intensity. When she finally found the strength to answer, she could not do so without stammering, as if it was her who should be ashamed instead of Indis.

"Thank... thank you. I... I did not want... I did not expect... I am sure ´tis not easy for you, to be here, and I will deliver to him your congratulations... If you allow me."

Indis nodded, trying to hide her pain at Miriel´s words.

"I would be very grateful if you did. ´Tis true, I mean it."

"Come with me."

With exquisite gentleness, Míriel took her distressed companion’s hand, and ushered her out of the chamber. Neither of them said a word as they crossed the long stone corridors, walking together for the last time, for both were wrapped in a deep silence that spoke better than a thousand words about painful understanding. Even when they parted outside, under the mingled light of the Two Trees, they did not speak, just kiss and give each other a lingering glance before turning away.

_The light, quenched..._

 

 

 

 

* * *

That same night, Indis dreamed she was in that palace chamber once more, looking at the intricate patterns of the tapestries; but it was Finwë who held her by the hand now. They were joyfully married, she did not know how, and wanted to kiss, but, when they turned to gaze with tenderness into each other´s eyes, all of a sudden, she found it was a thin frail hand she held in hers, and saw the figure of Míriel piercing her with a grieving stare.

The light, quenched...

* * * * * * * * *

Indis never visited Míriel again. She felt too afraid of her own visions, and seriously believed for a while that the Shadow of Middle- Earth was trying to get inside her to twist her mind and turn her into a monster, so she tried to find oblivion singing together with her people at the slopes of Taniquetil. Except for her brother, nobody else perceived her sadness; and she was so intent in making him believe she had forgotten Finwë and Míriel that Ingwë thought she would eventually heal and find her matching fëa at last; even if he sometimes worried still and tried to overrule her fierce resistance to bring her to the Valar. But she never went. She was not a part of the Shadow, she was a bright Vanya as the others, and she delighted in her song, laughing and inventing melodies that were all new; leading the choir, alone. Above all, she loved to sing, to sing until she truly felt she was forgetting.

But the day the news reached her about the child Míriel and Finwë had been gifted with, Indis the singer dreamed again. And some months after that, when Ingwë told her that the Queen of the Noldor, exhausted from the painful delivery of her son Fëanaro, had left Finwë to rest for a while in the gardens of the Vala Irmo, she shuddered, and afterwards wondered why.

(To be continued)

*Translation (I´m no translator, so if you prefer to look in a book, you will find many better versions): "He seems to me the like of the gods, this man who is now sitting in front of you, listening to your sweet voice at your side while you talk to him; and to your gentle laugh that, I swear it to you, has made my heart leap inside my breast, because if only I look at you I am not able to utter a word any longer. (...)"

Note on names: Fëanaro is Fëanor´s Quenya mothername, and "Broideress" is Míriel´s surname (Serindë).

Note on characters: My Indis is Ingwë´s sister, though Tolkien left us with two possibilities: sister and niece, I preferred the first. And my Míriel is dark- haired, because I always pictured her with the same hair colour as her son, and I don´t like silver for her.( Besides, among the Noldor..?)


	2. Deep in the Shadows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could be considered a ghost story, or just a story of haunting. Maybe its slash, or maybe it isnt. Indis, queen of the Noldor, is haunted by images of her past..or of her own guilty conscience.

Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien´s.

Numberless thanks to Lady Masterblott and to Finch for beta and comments. I´ve tried to make things slightly clearer.

Note about family names: Atar, atarinya: father. Amma is supposed to be an hypothetical form of the Vanyarin "mother".

Another Note about Findis: She´s the eldest of Finwë´s daughters, and her name appears in HoME.

Chapter Two: Deep in the shadows.

"See you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, my King."

Biding farewell to the last counsellors who had followed him, Finwë turned back, and began to walk through the long palace corridors with his arms full of scrolls. He felt glad, but very tired after a particularly hard day of working on construction plans. From the first to the second mingling of the Two Lights, they had been immersed in endless discussions about the new city expansion, and those activities had nostalgically reminded him of how big the city had seemed to them when they had first planned and built it, after their arrival in Valinor. They had been so few, then! Not as few as the Vanyar, perhaps, but still very few compared to their actual numbers, and for that he rejoiced, for he saw in the increase of their numbers a sign of the happiness and prosperity of his people. Besides, he could not deny that he liked to have to plan and to construct so many buildings, halls, palaces and avenues, and that sometimes , ashamed though he was to confess it, he felt like a little child with a new toy.

You always want to do everything yourself, do you not, Finwë? he thought, ruefully. As Indis says, it seems as if you did it for fun, and the worst is that she is completely right!

Smiling to himself, the King of the Noldor opened the door to the room in which he had his private desk, and rushed inside to drop the scrolls on the table before meeting his family. It was quite a dark and chilly place, that room, very unlike the beautiful chambers of Indis the Vanya where he was being expected at this very hour, and he did not deny he wanted to be gone as soon as he could. He wanted so much to warm his hands over a good fire!

However, as he went inside, he perceived a dim light in the opposite side of the room, and that made him stop for a moment, surprised. How strange. Nobody ever went there apart from his wife or himself, except for cleaning and tidying purposes, and that would happen only in the morning. Who on Arda could have lighted that candle? Had he perhaps forgotten...?

"Who ...?"

Just when he was starting to voice the question, Finwë felt a faint tugging on his right leg, and looked down. Two tiny hands encircled it, two eager arms, and there was a little golden- haired child staring at him with scared, imploring eyes.

"Findis!" he cried, astonished. Immediately, he knelt down in front of her, and pulled her into his embrace.

"Atar", she muttered, embracing him in turn. She was trembling slightly in her nightgown, for it was cold in this part of the palace, and her eyelids were red and swollen. With no slight shock, Finwë realised that she had been crying for some time there, waiting for him in the light of the nearly burnt-down candle.

"What is the matter, my dear?" he asked, stroking her soft masses of Vanyarin golden hair. "What are you doing here?"

Finwë´s little daughter shivered again, and then looked down to the floor, resting her head on her father´s chest. Somehow, she could manage to swallow her distress in a truly heroic effort for such a young elfling, managing to form the necessary words to let him know what had happened.

"´Tis Amma", she whispered, "She is acting strange..."

* * * * * * * * *

About five minutes later, Finwë pushed aside the door of his firstborn´s chambers, and, feeling himself watched in puzzlement by a pair of grey eyes from behind the covers of a very old book, he left the younger child sitting on the edge of Fëanaro´s bed.

"Atarinya..." his son began, but he cut him short, the tone in his voice betraying a hint of anxiousness.

"Take care of her, Fëanaro. I will be back soon."

"But I am studying!" Fëanaro protested, staring uneasily at the curled up form of his little half-sister. Finwë did not even answer, he simply left and closed the door behind his back. She would be well there, in the care of her brother, he thought, on his way to his wife’s chambers. Even if it was true that Fëanaro used to make faces at Indis´s daughter when he and her mother were present, and claimed that he could not play with that boring little Vanyarin girl, Finwe knew that they could be very well together when left alone, as they would be now. Besides, he had more important matters to care about, matters that had left him more than worried.

What could be happening to Indis?

* * * * * *

_"Serindë!"_

_It was night; always night in that land she remembered. Glimmering far away, in the dome of heaven, only the silvery light of the stars fell over the little girl´s golden hair as she ran, past the village and past the first unknown trees, to throw herself in the waiting arms of a dark-haired figure who was smiling at her._

_"Indis" Everything that Míriel carried with her; clothes, furs and sewing tools, was scattered to the ground when she lifted the girl up. They embraced for a long while, gladly, feeling their irregular breaths as their eyes beamed with happiness at the sight of each other._

_"Oh, my, Indis, you have grown indeed! I think you outgrew already everything I brought for you.", the Noldo said at last, when she put her down. Both began to collect Míriel´s things together, and were soon helped by other Vanyar who had arrived, to greet the skilled Noldo who came from the shadows as every once in a while, to sew and mend their clothes in exchange for their food. They were happy, and sang songs because she had come back to them, but the girl just tightened her grip on her friend’s hand._

_Míriel was loved there, though not as much by anyone as by Indis, direct descendant of the First Awakened One and princess of her people. It was the child who took her by the hand in front of the others and asked her for songs and stories of the Noldor, and many a time they had entered the dark forest holding each other’s hands, for Indis was never afraid when Míriel was with her. Even in those distant days, when the shadows had been deep and the land wild and untrodden, they had gone to many places together, far from safety, song, and laughter, before the child had grown up and sad events had thrown a shadow over both nísi that would last forever._

A light flickered in front of her; it was a candle. Míriel was behind her, she could feel it, but it was not comfort she brought now, and she could not hold her by the hand any longer.

The light, quenched..

Indis covered her face with her hands, and started to weep desperately.

* * * * *

What could have happened to Indis? Finwë wondered, for the thousandth time in the last five minutes. "Acting strange" had been Findis´s first explanation, though later she had added that her mother had started by muttering incomprehensible things and looking over her shoulder as if someone was haunting her, and had ended by locking the door of her bedchamber, where she would not let anyone come in. Alone with her, for, following the custom, all the maids had already been dismissed, her daughter had been terrified, and so had gone to wait for him at his desk, trusting that her Atar would know what to do.

And the truth was that he did not know, at all.

Finwë sighed deeply, and slowed his pace in order to think more clearly. In their years of marriage, since his beloved first wife had left forever and her former best friend had come to him to fill the unbearable gap in his heart and household, Indis had always been the most wise and understanding, the most calm and considerate of all the nísi he had known. She was always smiling, singing, and never lost her patience at anything, sometimes even helping him to restrain his impetuousness with her Vanyarin wisdom. What could possibly have happened? Why was Findis shivering, staying away from her mother and unwilling to return to her? What could have been the reason for Indis’ sudden...outburst?

Perhaps...

He had never given much thought to those things, because in the morning he kissed her before leaving and she embraced him with a warm smile. He had almost forgotten those nights, soon after their wedding, but now the memories were slowly returning to his mind and he recalled his wife clutching his arm in the bed, and staring at the darkness with wide frightened eyes, _as if someone was haunting her._ A nightmare, she had said afterwards. She had been deeply shaken at the strange and unexpected death of her friend, even after such a long time, and Finwë could understand that, for he himself knew very well that he would never be able to forget a single moment spent with Míriel, and that his curse would be to see everything in his mind, from her sparkling eyes when they first had made love to her vacant expression when he was trying desperately to summon her fëa back to him, and this for all the rest of his immortal life. Indis suffered too, though she showed her affliction through those strange nightmares, and they lasted only until the birth of their daughter eased their pain.

But, were they really gone?

Finwë did not know why, but he was beginning to fear that the latest events could have something to do with what he had just remembered. Those had been the only times that Indis had shown some kind of deep irrational emotion, and her grief had been the cause. She had felt threatened, and apparently so she was now, only that she was fully awake, and that worried him even more. Could it be that she was going mad?

Could it be?

When he arrived in front of Indis´s doors, he found them effectively closed, but nobody hindered him from the inside when he tried to open them. His wife was there, gazing at the window, and his first impulse was to rush in immediately and go to her; yet his mind told him he should be very careful not to frighten her even more, and so he slowed his pace.

"Indis" he called while approaching her gently, tentatively. The Vanya turned her head, and, recognizing him, she smiled.

"Finwë."

She was pale. _So very pale._ Finwë could not help staring at her for a moment, his face full of worries, and when she noticed it, he saw that her hands began to shake slightly too, clutching the folds of her dress.

"I...where is my daughter?" she asked in a strange voice. Her husband made an attempt to walk to her side, considering it a good sign that she did not retreat backwards, distressed as she obviously was.

"She is playing with my son. They are having fun together, do not worry. Indis..."

A muffled shriek interrupted his words. Indis turned away again, and her hands continued to tremble.

"Indis..." Finwë repeated, carefully. As she had turned her back on him, he was able to arrive at her side, and trap her in his embrace. Indis whimpered, but she did not back away.

"Ssssh" he whispered in her ear. "Do not fear. Please, Indis, calm your fear and look at me. She loved you as she did love me, as much as I do love you, and she said she wanted you to be happy. Do you remember her words? Tell me, do you remember them, Indis?"

"I..I.. Yes." the Vanya whispered, while she forced her limbs to relax under his caresses. Gradually, little by little, her nervousness diminished, and she surrendered to his calming embrace leaning back on him, though only when she was able to look into his eyes he would accept that all trace of madness had gone away from her. The crisis had passed; it was his success.

"Forgive me. I do not know what..." she began, but he made her stop.

"Do not worry, dear, I understand. Wait for me here; I will return after putting Findis to bed."

"No!"

Worried again, Finwë turned to look at her once more, but, to his relief, he saw that her countenance showed nothing strange this time. It was only her usual gentle firmness, and his heart could slow its pace.

"I will go, Finwë. Wait for me."

The king of the Noldor bowed his head then, and smiled.

* * * * * * *

When Indis arrived in Fëanaro´s bedchamber, she found that Findis had already fallen asleep, her thumb in her mouth, while her half- brother was reading out a book of tales to her. As usual, she did her best to ignore the cold glance of her stepson when she picked the child from his bed, and wished him a good night’s sleep, as motherly as she could act towards a son who was not hers and did not want to be such. Then, she took Findis to her own bedchamber, covered her little body with the sheets, and kissed her forehead softly before walking out and closing the door behind her back.

"Please, do not scare her!" she implored to the thin raven- haired figure who was lurking there, hiding deep in the shadows of the corridor.

But she got no answer.

(To be continued)


	3. Unheeded.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could be considered a ghost story, or just a story of haunting. Maybe its slash, or maybe it isnt. Indis, queen of the Noldor, is haunted by images of her past..or of her own guilty conscience.

Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien´s.

Thanks to Lady Masterblott for beta reading the chapter, and to Finch as well.

Chapter Three: Unheeded.

Once, we were friends. Do you remember? A deep understanding, a passionate thrill ran through our entwined spirits when you held me close, resting your back on the ground and your heart against the open wound of my love for you. I smiled, you smiled; and then we kissed, but you did not blush, no, you did not. Not like when you kissed him and I was watching.

Not like when I kissed him, and you were watching....

Míriel! Why must you make me suffer so much? You cannot speak, yet you do, for you whisper things in my mind, harassing me day and night until you leave me at the brink of madness. I can remember Middle Earth, the forlorn starlit land where you loved and killed me. I can remember that curve of your lips, and the reassuring grip of your hand. Yet I see you, and I know you have forgotten everything except the desire to see me hurting, all love turned into quiet hatred and silent, deadly persistence.

There, there you are again. As beautiful and terrible as always. Strands of silky, dark hair cover a part of your face, while you cross the threshold of my door and wait for me to retreat backwards with horror painted in my features once more. But, do you know what? This time, you will be disappointed, for I am not going to do that now. I have something to say to you; something to ask of you, Míriel Serindë.

First, you will have to listen to me. You will have to know that I have loved you always, beyond question, since I was a little child and you came to us as a dark spirit of the forests. I shared everything that was mine with you, as you did with me, and when you urged me to meet your people I accepted eagerly, even if it meant going away from my own for the first time in my life. Do you remember how afraid I was when we walked through the frighteningly great wood, how I clutched your hand? You told me that I did not have to fear, that the stars were still shining above us even if we did not see them, and began to sing a song with me.

Oh, today, the thought of the smallness of the things that made me afraid then makes me laugh behind my tears. I am laughing now, remembering it, and... could it be? Could it be that you are laughing, too? Oh, yes! You are, I see it, and in your eyes I can see a spark of tenderness flickering as you look at me. How did I love you once, Míriel!

But no, I was being led astray. I know it cannot be true. Your gaze is accusing, as it was before, and I will not back down from you.

There, among the Noldorin people, I saw you and Finwë kissing for the first time, and learned that you were lovers. Nobody else knew it, yet you told me, wishing that I could share your happiness; but I found unexpectedly that I could not. What did you think of me when I was unable to return your smile, to look at you both without choking, and to suppress my pain each time I looked at him; the tall, bright-eyed and handsome nér who took my heart while you gave him yours? I did not understand what was happening to me at the time, believe me. I just had the strange notion that I wanted to be at his side, in your place; and then, that I wanted you gone, horrifying as this sounded to my innocent soul. Frightened, I asked you to bring me back home; and so you did.

Still silent? You do not open your mouth to answer me, or to say this is wrong and I am lying. All right, all right, I will confess the truth: I knew then what was happening to me. I was in love with him, I _wanted_ him; and needed to go away before I caused you harm. Suddenly, you were not the dearest to my heart anymore, and something told me that I had to lose you before I got lost myself.

I was right.

My friend, I am sure that you will not believe me if I say that I tried to _do_ right also, to stay apart from you and let you be happy, but I swear it is the truth. I wore a smile on your wedding day, I congratulated you, but I could do nothing to stop the strange and wicked dreams that kept creeping into my mind. I saw you dead, gone, trapped in darkness, and I saw myself happy with Finwë....oh, it was so cruel that I cried afterwards, so ashamed of myself that I would have gone mad if it had not been for the music and the help of my people. They made me forget, or at least try to, until that very horrible moment when I learned that you were fading, and everything crumbled for me again. Then, as soon as I could, I rushed to the gardens of Lórien to try to hold you back, but the only thing that was left there for me to see when I arrived was your empty shell, the body you once had pressed against mine and that had become now cold, pale and rigid. And you were gone, as in my darkest dreams.

Why did you do that to me?

Oh, Míriel. Slowly, trembling of grief, I recall that I bent over you to kiss your lips, and that before knowing what I was doing I began to sing. I had grown accustomed in those last years to sing whenever I felt I was hurting, but that song I had never sung in Valinor, for it was the song you sang to me when we were crossing the great forests and I was afraid of the darkness. Tears welled through my eyes as I sat and wondered how all could have ended like this, and I had lost all conscience of what happened outside of you and me when, suddenly, something brushed my arm, and I turned back to see the face of someone who was even more broken than I was, if that was possible. He embraced me, I embraced him, and while he wept, I kept singing.

And we betrayed you in our mourning.

How is that? You have never cried before! The only thing you did was to look at me and make me cower, but now I see your tears, and I wish I could cry with you. My nightmare became true, I killed you, denied you your place, your love, your life, even if it was you who said yes to the Valar. I should have the right to cry at your side, yet I know I do not, Míriel. I deceived my conscience at first, saying I was just helping you to do what you, too weary, could not have done anymore; to care for your people, your husband and your son, but in the end, I know, everything comes to simple, undeniable selfishness. And you know it also.

What more can I say? Serindë, dearest friend, I suffered gladly all that happened to me because of my crime. Finwë never could love me as he did love you, and you never allowed me to come near your son or be as a mother to him, always guarding him defiantly against my advances. Even if, yes, I had more sons and daughters with your husband, they never were for him what Fëanaro was. And, as if it was not enough, your presence has been torturing me since the first day I married him, following me everywhere, and staring at me even in my dreams. I never complained or asked for help, nor did I tell Finwë what happened, as much as I wanted him to help me and care for me. I only want to beg something of you now; of you, of the Míriel I knew and befriended in Middle Earth so long ago. Just one thing, that thing, and I will never bother you again.

Please, have pity on me. This is my only request. I know that you are his wife, that he loves you still, and I have learned to be happy just to have him by my side, but do not take him away from me. Those black eyes of yours are summoning him to that faraway place called Formenos where I cannot follow him, just to have him for you alone once more, and if I smiled and told him he could go it was not because I did not mind, but because I know I cannot fight you. Do not condemn me to loneliness, have mercy! His presence, his comforting presence, was all that was left to me, and I am sure that, if I lose him, my fate will be madness. Do you understand? _I will go mad._

Míriel, please, come back....

_Míriel, forgive me!_

(to be continued)


End file.
